Sorry, I Was Drunk
by lumisakom
Summary: Plotless RoyEd fluff. When Ed woke up, it seemed as though he'd had a little too much to drink last night...


**Don't ask. Just... don't. xD**

**(Beware to all those RoyEd haters out there. Although if you're still here after reading that warning, you're stupid enough to deserve to have your eyes burned out like this.)**

**Disclaimer~**

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**Sorry, I Was Drunk**

Ed groaned as harsh daylight penetrated his restful sleep. Deciding it was still too early in the morning for any form of physical exertion, Ed refrained from crossing the room to close the curtains. In fact, he refrained from even opening his eyes, because not only did that require effort, but it would also be acknowledging the fact that it was morning and therefore time to get up.

Ed's eyebrows furrowed as he shifted onto his side. He felt... odd. There was no other way to describe it. His head was pounding and his stomach was threatening to empty itself, but that was just the hangover from last night. The hangover didn't explain the fact that his mattress felt unusually soft, though; neither did it explain the thick, quilted sheets covering him from the nose down. The military dorms didn't bother with such luxuries. _Though_, Ed thought to himself, _they might just feel so nice because I haven't slept properly in a good few weeks. And Al decided to buy a quilted sheet._ Ed nodded lazily to himself. _Yeah. That makes sense._

_Wait._

Ed's eyes snapped open as liquor-hazed memories of the previous night began to flood back to him. _I didn't. I _wouldn't_. There's no possible way on this godforsaken Earth that I-_

"Nngh...?"

_Fuck_.

Ed hesitantly rolled over in the double bed, the sight of the unfamiliar maroon curtains sending his heartbeat into a frenzy. No, he was _not_ in his lumpy bed in the military dorms, and Al had _not_ bought him a quilted sheet for no apparent reason.

He was lying in _Roy Mustang's_ bed, in _his_ house, underneath _his _quilted sheet.

A black mop of unruly hair peeked out of the covers on the opposite side of the bed with a sleepy grunt, and Ed was soon assaulted by Roy's wide-eyed 'what-the-fuck-is-going-on' look.

Apparently, Roy couldn't remember much either.

Ed decided it would be best _not_ to jump out of the bed and run, screaming and stark naked, back to the dorms, instead opting for a nervous grin and a soft, "Morning."

Roy continued to stare dumbly at Ed for another few seconds before closing his eyes with a resigned sigh. He said slowly, as if still half-asleep, "Right. Good morning."

The two lay in a silence verging on awkward until Ed broke it with an uncomfortable cough. "Do you have any food?"

Roy peeled open one jet black eye to give Ed a deadpan look. "I would make a witty joke about how dumb that sounds if I didn't have a horrible hangover."

Ed scowled half-heartedly, a light flush decorating his cheeks, though it soon gave way to a sympathetic smirk. "Shut up," he said good-naturedly as he sat up, groaning when the world span around him. He blinked to clear the fog in his vision, scouring the room. "Hang on, I'm just gonna go find my clothes... or at least _some_ clothes, and then I'll get us some breakfast."

"'Kay." Roy snuggled further into the quilt, and Ed briefly wondered how such a dangerous and powerful man could look so helpless and cute. He snickered quietly at the thought as he slipped out of the bed and managed to retrieve his boxers and Roy's shirt (scowling when he found it reached almost to his knees). He wasn't quite sure where the other clothes had disappeared to, but he decided to leave that problem to Roy whenever the lazy arse finally got up.

Ed wandered down the landing, squinting at the light pouring in through large windows. He somehow managed to make it downstairs without falling to his death - a notable feat when your hangover is so bad you can barely tell which way is up - grimacing as he passed through the living room littered with empty beer cans and shot glasses. Roy had pulled out the glasses after about the fourth beer or so, and Ed supposed they must've had a drinking competition, though he couldn't remember it. They must've been pretty pissed, though, because they'd woken up sharing a bed.

Ed rifled though the tall white fridge, searching for something that wasn't milk, alcohol or leftover takeout. He found some eggs, but he'd never tried to fry an egg before and didn't want to risk it in another person's house, and he didn't like them boiled.

He grinned like a kid, however, when he realised there was another use for eggs - _pancakes._

He cracked an egg into a bowl, along with a pint of milk and a decent amount of flour. He was pouring the mixture into the pan for the third time by the time Roy wandered groggily into the white kitchen diner.

"Hey," Roy greeted gruffly before slumping into a chair.

"Good morning, sunshine," Ed sang, smirking to himself as Roy shot him a glare. Apparently, Roy had won the drinking competition, because by the looks of things, he was feeling far worse than Ed. "I hope you like pancakes."

Roy grunted a noncommittal sound that Ed took as a 'yes'. He lifted his head off the table to make room for the plate when Ed brought it over, wincing as the world blurred.

Ed sat opposite, armed with eight pancakes and a tube of squeezy golden syrup.

The two ate in amiable silence for a while, until a snort of laughter from Ed's direction piqued Roy's interest. "What's so funny?"

"Just thinking how many shots you must've had to be feeling this bad when you drink regularly," Ed answered, a broad smirk still on his face.

Roy groaned. "I don't even want to think about it."

Ed sniggered as he inhaled another pancake. "Why did you even call me over last night in the first place?"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

"I can't be bothered to think right now."

Roy rolled his eyes before explaining. "You know that case the Fuhrer assigned to us?"

"The one we're working on with Hughes?"

"Yeah, that one. Well, he found some new information and I couldn't make heads or tails of it, so I called you to see if you could provide a new perspective on it. It got late, and I offered you a drink, and..."

"And I think I pretty much got the story from there, thanks."

Roy let out a breathy chuckle at the wry grin on Ed's face. "So, Ed... I can call you that now, right?"

"Don't see why not." Ed shrugged, far more interested in his breakfast - a lake of golden syrup with some floating pancake islands.

Roy shot Ed his best lady-killer smile, which instantly set off alarms in his head. The closest thing to a prize-winning smile that Ed ever received from the man was a patronising smirk after he'd fucked up yet another mission - which was rather hot in itself, but not on purpose like this one - and so Ed was immediately suspicious.

Alas, no warning bells could have prepared Ed for what was coming next.

"So, _Ed_; you wanna join me for dinner tonight?"

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**Hihi. :3 The random plot bunnyz assaulted meh.**


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